What I write after Joe and Henry go to bed

Let me begin by saying I hate cooking. I really truly do not like tocook. Unlike most of the females in my family, I’m not wired for it. I much prefer pulling something out of the fridge and eating it with little to no prep time and little to no guilt. Even Rachel Ray’s 15 Minute Meals are too much trouble for me to follow.

I’m a lousy rule follower, which means I’m a lousy recipe follower, which means I have a hard time seeing a meal through from scratch to finish. When I was in my 20s, single and drinking alcohol every other night, my culinary hangups were a non-issue. As a 31-year-old married mother of a wild child, I’m much more concerned about food, or as I like to think of it now: fuel. If you’re not into cooking, your family risks eating Rice-A-Roni and chocolate pudding cups for dinner. This is a problem.

About a year ago, I joined an organic food co-op called the Hot Mamas of St. Pete. (If the group were called the Haggard Mamas of St. Pete I would not have joined.) I did this at the urging of my neighbor – a total hot mama – who needed someone with whom she could share her twice-a-month bounty. For $20 every other week, I split a laundry basket stuffed with everything from eggs to kale to baby eggplant to bok choy. Avocados and berries always go first. The greens and veggies stick around until I toss them in a stir fry, a salad, or a quiche.

♥I watched my first episode of the Rachael Ray Show this week. This led to my purchasing the September issue of her magazine, which touts “1 Month of Make-Ahead Meals.” I’d really like to get a grip on this cooking thing and if Rachael Ray can’t help me, no one can.

♥My sister PK wants to sign me up for What Not to Wearbecause of my love affair with quirky graphic tees.

♥I applied for a front yard makeover by the DIY network because our front yard is the fugliest on the block, barring the vacant house on the corner.

I combine a package of ground turkey, a 99-cent bag of mixed frozen vegetables, four hard boiled eggs and three-and-a-half cups of brown rice. It costs about $6 and feeds him for 10 days. Sure it takes 30 minutes to cook, but the outcome of this new diet has proved beneficial to the pug, who is prone to skin problems. Like me.

Hot spots. Do you know what these are?

They are fur-less bloody patches that spread across my dog’s head, back and rump. They start as crusty dime-sized scabs and turn into crusty half-dollar-sized scabs. After spending years (and hundreds of dollars) treating these things, I had given into the reality that he was just prone to them, as are many pugs.

I would walk the pug down the street and fellow dog walkers would comment on these grotesque lesions. Some would refrain from commenting, probably assuming that I was one of those dog owners who turns up on the 10 o’clock news charged with animal cruelty.

If anyone so much as glanced at the patches, I would launch into a lengthy discourse on hot spots.

“I swear my dog isn’t mangy. He breaks out in these things. They’re called hot spots. I can’t help it.”

But that all changed three months ago, after I interviewed a photographer (and fellow pug owner) at her home on Longboat Key.

Before even entering this woman’s house, I was greeted by a pug with such a silky coat I was rendered speechless in the creature’s presence.

I couldn’t help but wonder why her pug was blessed with such flawless skin and mine was riddled with hot spots?

I’ll tell you why.

Homemade dog food is why.

She told me she’d switched to a turkey/brown rice/veggie mix a year ago because her pug was prone to HOT SPOTS. Not only did the diet clear up the pug’s skin, it also softened his bristly fur.

That night I went to the grocery store and bought all the fixings. I browned the turkey over the stove and made the rice and veggies in the microwave. I froze six sandwich baggies of food and put one small container in the fridge. When Joe saw it, he thought I had ordered Chinese takeout.

“That’s not takeout!” I scolded him. “That’s Cubbie’s new food!”

“Can I eat it?”

“If you like.”

And so it’s been three months.

And guess what?

Cubbie lost five much-needed pounds and now has the alabaster skin and downy fur of a pampered show pug.

Cauliflower is nothing but cabbage with a college education.

– Mark Twain

Today’s meal suggestion comes from London, who works with Joe and who brilliantly suggested I hide vegetables in his food. I especially like that she recommended I hide cauliflower. It’s one of my favorite veggies and the subject of one of my favorite quotes.

London: to answer your question, Joe’s dietary habits tend to skew toward dull and unoriginal, not fried and unhealthy. In fact, he’s a pretty healthy eater as far as type of chicken and type of potato goes.

I’m sorry to say it, but Misha and I typically prepare our own meals individually and then eat next to each other! He’s big into pork and dumplings and sauerkraut and I’m into salads and pasta (pseudo-vegetarian also). Sometimes we don’t eat the same meal, but it’s worked for us for 10 years!

My brother is the same way: no fruits or veggies. To me that is sooo crazy because I could live on salad alone. What DOES Joe like to eat? Does it typically skew fried and unhealthy, or is it just the same old stuff?

I’ve noticed that Misha and I can agree on ethnic food: Chinese, Mexican, Thai, some Italian, so maybe you can head in that direction.

Here are three things we like to eat that aren’t overloaded with fruits or veggies. I think you’re out of luck if you don’t like seafood though!

Salmon Patties: This comes in a can. Just add eggs and breadcrumbs like you would meatloaf and fry them up.

Sometimes you can camouflage veggies, if they are in a different form. I creamed cauliflower and fried it up in patty form. It was amazing! We also tend to make a lot of soups and dip our homemade crusty bread in them. Very filling.

Cookbooks are overrated.

Last week I sent out a culinary S.O.S. to friends, family and fellow bloggers.

Via mass email I asked for meal suggestions to help Joe (a carnivore who detests all fruits and vegetables) and I (a pseudo vegetarian who occasionally eats chicken) break out of our food funk. Now, if you ask Joe whether or not we’re in a food funk, he’ll probably tell you all is well in our kitchen.

But all is boring in our kitchen.

Thank you to all the folks who responded to that email. Can you believe I received 30 replies? Some of you were short and sweet. Pizza. Burgers. Fries. Some of you felt compelled to write lengthy and colorful descriptions of your dietary habits and how they jive (and don’t jive) with your mate’s.

It turns out that many of you are in a similar culinary pickle, making mine and Joe’s opposite palates seem more … palatable. To quote my friend Adam, “SOLUTION: Make separate meals. If you think about it, that’s actually a kind of weird concept; every night, every couple should eat the same thing together AND LIKE IT.”

To help shake up our predictable dinner rotation, I plan to fold these suggestions into our supper stock as well as post them here. You’d be surprised how revealing a dinner menu can be.

As for the actual implementation of these recipes, I’m a struggling and impatient cook. But I’m nothing if not dedicated. I plan to print out every suggestion and create a kind of Dinner Rehab Cookbook. Wish me potluck.

My first meal plan comes from Gracia, a Lance reader who hails from Spain and who is getting married this summer to her sweetheart, Eric.

♥♥♥

Hi Heidi,

It must be quite hard to find things you can both share, and although I’m lucky because Eric eats almost everything, there are a couple of my favourites that he won’t touch. Luckily, they are very easy to prepare just for me, and that’s what I do.

..

1st – Zucchini Soup (I guess it’s more like pureed zucchini, but I just translated the Spanish name.) You basically cook together a zucchini, potato, carrot, onion and a couple laughing cow cheese wedges with a bit of salt and then puree it. It’s really good cold in summer and hot in winter.

..

2nd – Gazpacho. Take a can of tomato pure (I have no idea what you get in a can of tomato puree over there, but here it’s just raw tomato, pureed. Clever, huh?), add a slice of onion, a strip of green pepper and a bit of cucumber if you like, and puree. Serve very cold (add ice cubes, it’s ok!) with a bit of olive oil, salt and pepper. Sure, you could puree your tomatoes, but don’t waste the pretty things from your garden on this, the canned type is perfectly OK.

..

3rd – Veggie Frittata – Cook any vegetables you want following any method you want. put them in a pan. Cover with beaten eggs, salt and pepper. Love it.

..

I’m not sure if this is what you were looking for, but in the meat department I only know about steaks and chicken breasts. Not an expert, you see. And right now, with the hot weather, I can only think of the three things above, paella and sangria. (Can you tell where I come from?) And a bit of watermelon, but preferably soaked in sangria.

The man with no hair who you see in the freeze frame of this YouTube video is my sister Heelya’s boyfriend Brian. He buzzed his head last week. He says it’s his new Chris Daughtry look. Joe filmed this little segment, among others, on Christmas day as we milled about our house cooking dinner and opening presents before Joe’s parents and siblings arrived for what would be a grand feast in the backyard. (To my family and friends back home in New York: yes we ate dinner outside under the carport in our backyard. It was warm and even a bit humid. Yes, I said humid.)

Before I explain the significance of this video, I should first point out the significance of yesterday.

Yesterday was my first Christmas together with Joe. Sure, it was our first Christmas as husband and wife, but it was also our first Christmas together, logistically speaking. I’m always in Western New York with my family and he’s always in Tampa with his, so the fact that we could celebrate under the same roof, much less the same state, was pretty awesome. I was so grateful for that.

It was also the first time in 16 years that my father has spent Christmas with his parents –– my Oma and Opa, who spend their winters in a retirement community about an hour south of me.

Now, add PK, who also lives in St. Pete, and Heelya and Brian, who live in Myrtle Beach, S.C. and you’ve got a whole bunch of Kurps together for Christmas who might otherwise be scattered up and down the east coast. It was wonderful. Our house was loud and crowded. When Joe’s siblings arrived, followed by his parents and grandfather, it got even louder and more crowded in that colorful bustling warm-energy way. I loved it. Ain’t no Christmas without a ruckus. As I shimmied past pairings of people in the hallway and the living room, carrying trays topped with cheese and veggies, guacamole and hummus, I couldn’t help but think of my Nana and Papa’s Christmas Eve gatherings back home in New York.

(I should also mention that this was the first time ever that my mom didn’t spend Christmas with her parents. Nana: I know you’re reading this. I thought of you the entire night, and now that I have one Christmas dinner under my apron I can finally fully appreciate all those years you hosted Christmas Eve at your house.)

Anyway. Joe and I decided to set up a long table Last Supper-style under the carport in our backyard, which turned out to be a genius idea. My dad strung lights and my mom and I crafted pine and berry napkin ring holders out of garland. Joe fired up the deep fryer and from scratch made better mozzarella sticks and chicken wings than any bar and grill I’ve ever been to.

With my mom’s help, we cooked turkey and ham, mashed sweet potato yams and set out a salad bar. Rosey made corn casserole and Joe’s mom made lasagna. Oma supplied her signature chocolate butter cream cake and so many cookies the tray collapsed when we cleared the table. Three pugs attended the celebration: Cubbie of course, Uncle Homer (my parent’s pug) and Owen (Heelya’s pug), who sadly was suffering from a ruptured ear drum and spent the night with his head cocked lamely to one side.

Oddities

Reading material

Me.

Joe.

Henry.

Chip.

Buzzy.

Why Lance?

This blog is named after my old friend Sarah's manifestation of a dreamy Wyoming cowboy named Lance, because the word blog sounds like something that comes out of a person's nose.

About me

I'm a journalist who spends my Mondays through Fridays writing other people's stories, a chronic procrastinator who needs structure. I once quit my job to write a book and like most writers, I made up excuses why I couldn't keep at it.

My boyfriendfiancé husband Joe likes to sleep in late on the weekends, but since we have a kid now that happens less than he'd like.

Before Henry and Chip, I used to spend my mornings browsing celebrity tabloid websites while our dog snored under the covers. Now I hide my computer in spots my feral children can't reach because everything I own is now broken, stained or peed on.

I created Lance in an attempt to better spend my free time. I thought it might jump start a second attempt at writing a novel.

It hasn't. And my free time is gone.

But I'm still here writing.

I'm 262728293031 323334 35 and I've yet to get caught up in something else, which is kind of a big deal for a chronic procrastinator.